Rum
by What A Lovely Disaster
Summary: Yuffentine. If that doesn't make you want to read this, I don't know what will.


**VERY, VERY, IMPORTANT A/N OF DOOM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION. **

**I was bored, ok? And maybe procrastinating. Just a little. Anyway, it's one o'clock in the morning, and I turn on my computer. Bad, bad decision. But I did. And now this lovely piece of 'literature' is now on the interwebz. Fanfreakingtabulous. I will tell you what this is. It is a great deal of drabble, with a tacked-on plot, and highly substandard editing. I apologize in advance. It was supposed to be angsty, but it turned out to be kind of crackish. There may be future installments. Read. It's probably not as bad as I just made it sound. But it might be. Just saying.**

XXX

I've been saving the world since I was sixteen, nearly five years ago. I've been saving my own ass for even longer. And it shows, if you know what to look for.

My room resembles an armory more than a bedroom belonging to a twentysomething woman. Instead of posters, I have shruiken. There are more knives hidden in my mattress than in my kitchen. I sleep with a katana, for Leviathan's sake!

I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in years- the tiniest noise, and I'm awake, ready to defend the planet from some new evil- without the help of earplugs, alcohol, pills, or some combination of the three, I spend hours tracing the cracks in the ceiling with my eyes.

I hate it.

But even if I was given a second chance, I wouldn't change a thing- I would have attacked that spiky guy's sorry ass every single time.

So, I guess what I mean when I say I hate it, I really mean, that I don't regret any of it, and would take that jump out of the tree every time. Does that mean I love it, too?

Why do I hate-but-kinda-love the path I've taken?

In those journeys, in those fights, in the heat of combat, I found redemption. I found love.

I learned so much. I learned to trust people, and that having friends wasn't a weakness. I taught that to someone, too. Someone who needed-no, deserved _people, trust, _and _friends _more than I did.

Vincent Valentine.

The man who is staring at me, like he fucking knows everything, and he probably does, being wise and old as he is.

"Okay. Friendship status totally revoked, Valentine. That is my bottle of rum, and you can most definitely not have it."

"May I ask why you need an entire bottle of rum to yourself, Yuffie?"

"No. No, you may not" I said archly, making another grab for my improvised sleep aid. I was about a foot short. _Damn. Foiled again by faulty genetics. Thanks a lot, pops._

"Hmph. I figured as much. Well, it just so happens that I'm thirsty. I'm going to borrow this for awhile." He waves, nonchalantly, and sweeps cloakishly to his room. I flop back down on my bed. Well, I still had some Tylenol pm...I popped the cap. It was empty. This wouldn't have been such a problem if I hadn't just bought it yesterday...

Was this some kind of intervention? If it was, everyone in this shitty hotel would hear about it.

Hotel? Why, yes, dear people from beyond the fourth wall. Hotel. Because saving the world as your job apparently means making sure it stays saved. At least until it needs saving again, if that makes any sense.

Reeve sends us on these missions- mostly monster killing, and looking for suspicious activity involving silver haired individuals. Usually, it's just me or Valentine, occasionally Robo-chan, and any of our old comrades, if they aren't busy being well-adjusted. Which they are, with nine to five jobs and everything.

Me? I'm still putting off the ruling-a-country thing. Eventually, I'm going to take over. But I'm not ready to hand over my freedom yet. And Godo's still bitchin' and kickin', so it kind of works out.

Vincent is pretty much just as maladjusted to 'normal' life as I am, so I guess that's why he's out in the field as well.

This time, his royal blueness has ordered us to traverse the world again, as if we don't have anything better to do. Which I don't, but really, that's rather beside the point.

Reeve definitely has something up his sleeve this time, though. He knows how I feel about Vincent. I mean, I think everyone _but_ him knows, especially after he disappeared post-omega incident. I spent weeks trying to find the man, combing through the ruins of Midgar, trying to at least find a corpse. I stopped eating, and slept only when exhaustion took over. I didn't even have to use my other methods, I would just pass out, and open my eyes to find that three days had gone by...Anyway, I think the commisioner is out to set me up with him. He could have chosen anyone else for the job, but he threw us in. Together. For, what I might remind you, is going to be a long journey. Where we will probably have to share a tent. I would like to remind you that I talk in my sleep.

So, I'd like to give a shout out to my boss, the man in the blue dress with the stuffed sex toy: "Thank you for ensuring that my best kept secret is now going to be leaked to the one person I reeeealy don't want to hear it. Because if he finds out, he'll get all weird, and probably not ever talk to me again. So, yeah. Thaaaanks."

_Oh, ye gods, I knoweth you frowneth on drinking on the job, but I think that I really, really need that rum. I brought it only as a plan b, but now I have seen the light. Alcoholism is the only way I can survive this. _

I sat up, and girded my loins, such as it were. I would just have to get my rum back.


End file.
